


There's A Difference

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Season/Series 06, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 11:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. Coping with a soulless brother isn’t easy. Dean’s working through that plus the whole fairy mess when a night out ends with him being hurt & learning something about Sam right now that he wasn’t expecting. Sam also learns something about himself when he finds out about his brother’s attack and heads out to settle a score. *Hurt!Dean & a soulless but adjusting to trying to be concerned!Sam*. Set between 06x09 Clap Your Hands if You Believe & 06x10 Caged Heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's A Difference

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Not many except the usual for minor violence, language and implied but not shown assault.  
> Spoilers/Tags: Not tagged and very few spoilers unless you’re a new fan/readers and haven’t seen season six then there may be some.  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. This is written for the enjoyment of fans.  
> Author Note: I have no clue where this one came from. I don’t write soulless Sam often but he popped up and the muse went with it. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it.  
> Feel free to look me up on Facebook under morgana07.

**There’s a Difference**

** SPN SPN SPN SPN **

“So, I’ve been digging into this thing Bobby wanted us to look into up in Maine and while I think it’s probably just a simple ghost that hasn’t crossed I suppose it is our kind of thing,” Sam Winchester didn’t look up from his laptop when the motel room door opened and shut behind him since he knew it was just his older brother returning from the bar and game of pool he’d chosen to distract himself with tonight.

Sam got it, with some difficulty, that Dean was only trying to cope the best he knew how with learning that Sam was soulless since returning from the Cage. He understood his brother didn’t care for his lack of feeling or empathy and was trying his best to keep Sam from crossing certain lines. He understood it even if it didn’t make much sense to Sam as he was right then.

He’d known quickly upon his return from the Cage that something was off with him because Sam had his memories of how he’d been before so he knew it wasn’t right that he didn’t seem to care for things, people, or even the older brother he’d idolized growing up.

Learning that his soul had somehow not made the transition from Cage and Earth when he did, however the hell that happened, was a little surprising for him but it was a lot shocking to Dean.

Though Sam supposed that did explain why he’d stood by to allow his brother to be turned into a vampire or the whole sex thing with that hippie girl while Dean had been kidnapped by faeries.

Of course he also supposed that admitting to his brother that he just didn’t have the feelings to care for anyone, even him, might not have been a wise choice since Sam had still seen the flash of hurt that crossed Dean’s face and he could see it everytime his brother looked at him lately.

However it was still odd for Dean to come in from a bar or anyplace and drop his jacket, flannel overshirt and go straight to the bathroom without saying anything to him.

“Dean?” being soulless might have taken his ability to care or choose what he should or shouldn’t say or do but it had given Sam a much sharper sense of when something wasn’t right and as he shifted in his seat to eye the dropped items he picked up that something was seriously not right with this.

Hearing the water running, he knew it wasn’t the shower but the sink so Sam was willing to shrug off Dean’s odd behavior since his brother had been acting a bit off ever since the whole fairy mess but Sam had learned not to push and that issue was one of the things he knew not to push Dean on…yet.

The downside to being soulless to Sam was that it also enhanced his OCD for order, which he guessed was why any time that he could Dean would intentionally just leave things laying around or move things around on him.

Smirking, Sam bent to grab the dropped denim jacket to frown a little when his fingers touched what the hunter in him knew was blood even before he looked. “What the hell?” he reached for the flannel shirt and the next move Sam made was to push open the bathroom door without knocking or speaking to alert Dean. “What the hell?”

Since being without his soul or the ability to care or judge his words it was rare for anything to make Sam speechless and while it only lasted the amount of time it took his eyes and brain to catch up and mesh as he took in the bloody bruised mess that was his older brother’s back and sides.

“Damn it, Sam!” Dean snapped, whirling away from the sink to try to push Sam out of the bathroom but forgot that this was not the same little brother he was used to.

This version of Sam wasn’t as easy to push around or avoid. Something that was plain when Dean found himself pushed against the now closed bathroom door with one of Sam’s hands pressing against his back in warning to stay still while the other hand had grabbed the wet washcloth to try to clean the drying blood off.

“Get the hell off, Sam!” he tried to once again move but the pain he was in on top of Sam’s added strength finally made the hunter go still but he jerked at the touches because Sam didn’t know better to go slow or gentle; at least at first. “Sam…”

“Shut up,” Sam countered in his usual tone of disinterest but the more tacky blood and dirt he cleaned away to reveal the deep and livid bruises and cuts underneath the more he gentled his touch until he didn’t feel Dean wince or jerk at every touch…until he moved to his side.

“ _Fuck_!” Dean had been biting his lip against the pain but at the first touch over his right side, neat his kidney, he couldn’t keep the curse in.

Hazel eyes narrowed as Sam looked closer to see both deep marks from fists littering his brother’s upper body but when they moved up slowly toward his neck to see both a blood red line like something had been wrapped around Dean’s neck and also a very clear boot print appearing on the paling skin something deep inside him flickered in a way he hadn’t felt since waking up free of the Cage.

“What happened?” he asked simply, keeping the rag rinsed and warm as he continued to clean these ones while using the mirror on the opposite wall to see that Dean’s chest also had some dirt and blood on it but not as seriously as his back. “I thought you were going to play pool and have a couple beers.”

“I did,” Dean grunted against the pain he wanted to ignore and just go to sleep.

He hadn’t planned on getting the third degree once over from his Robo-Sam since normally his brother couldn’t give a damn about him one way or the other but tonight seemed to be different and Dean just didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

“Con the wrong sore losers or hit on the wrong woman?” Sam was frowning more without realizing it because with every layer of blood and dirt he cleaned off he could see the marks better to see that it hadn’t just been fists that someone had used on Dean and it had been more than one boot.

“No and no,” Dean leaned his forehead against the door with a tight hiss as his brother’s fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive spot on his lower back and he tensed more as Sam shifted his grip to his waist. “The guys I beat at pool were cool. These assholes…they were playing darts when I got there but were being jerks to the waitress and I finally said something,” he pushed away from the wall to put some distance between them but Sam clearly wasn’t through yet. “I can do this myself.”

“You’ve got some bad bruises on your back and over the right kidney,” Sam moved back but only far enough to go to push his brother to sit on the closed toilet seat so he could see his chest. “Are you coughing up blood or peeing blood or…hey! Sit down so I can look at these.”

Dean’s sudden move to not sit down nearly took the hunter by surprise but Sam was faster right then and he shoved him down but paused at the look of pain that went over Dean’s paling rugged and bruised face when he sat down.

Not having a soul didn’t remove Sam’s memories of his brother or Dean’s reactions. It also didn’t remove Sam’s ability to catch the signs of certain things and the fact that he was taking in the multiple bruises, the cuts and abrasions the littered Dean’s back to the ones on his chest and face warned that this was more than a bunch of drunks pissed off that his brother defended a waitress.

Sam took special care to watch the way Dean’s whole body went rigid when he moved his gaze to take in the blood seeping through the heavy denim jeans at the knees but what sealed the silent message that passed between them was when Dean’s fingers closed over Sam’s clenching fist to take the cloth.

“I’m taking a shower and crashing. You can tell me what you found out about the case in the morning over breakfast,” Dean remarked evenly, green eyes a little shocky but firm as they met Sam’s. “I don’t want to talk about it and neither do you,” he added in a way that meant to let the matter drop.

It was a little weird for Sam to realize that regardless of what he’d said about not caring, about how indifferent he’d been lately that he didn’t want to drop this but it was the quick squeeze on his wrist, as if Dean was silently pleading with him to let this go, that finally made him stand up.

“How many jumped you?” he asked from outside the bathroom door that he hadn’t closed but stepped out to at least offer his brother privacy as he stripped painfully the rest of the way to step into the steaming shower.

“There were four of ‘em playing darts so I’d say four,” Dean answered slowly, fighting not to let his hands fist as the water ran over him but he knew on some level that Sam was still too close for him to let even one ounce of emotion crack. “They got pissed off that I ruined the fun they must have been planning with the waitress later on and they were the kind who didn’t like strangers on their turf so…” he shrugged the rest off.

This wasn’t the first time in his life that Dean had come up against assholes in a bar but it had been the first time that he’d allowed himself to be distracted to the point that anyone could get the jump on him to do what happened without someone suffering from some broken bones.

The deal with Sam not having a soul and all of that hassle was putting him off his game and also making him drink too much which also played a part in what happened but Dean wasn’t one to make excuses.

He’d allowed himself to not pay attention as he was leaving the bar and no matter the training he had or his skills the blow to his head and the four to one odds spelled trouble from the start.

The sound of the medical kit being laid on the sink made him tense because while he knew this was his brother with him Dean’s trust in Robo-Sam wasn’t always huge especially on nights when he couldn’t judge his actions but Sam merely sat the kit and clean clothes out before reaching a hand blindly past the closed shower curtain to touch his arm almost awkwardly before moving away.

It was only when he heard the bathroom door close fully and knew he was alone that Dean allowed the pain over his body to come and also the brief burst of nausea as the shock fully hit and he went to his knees in the tub to throw up.

Hearing the heavy coughing and retching from outside the door where Sam had remained after closing it, he eyed the clothes in his hand to take in the blood and other stains on the jeans and briefs before shoving them and both shirts in a plastic bag for disposal.

Sam wasn’t even fully aware that he was pacing the room like a caged tiger but at the next broken sound from the bathroom he was scratching a quick basic note to Dean that he had to run out to grab something they’d forgotten, snatched the keys to the Impala from where his brother had dropped them and locked the motel room door to be safe.

He couldn’t tell why he was doing this or what he was doing really. Sam just knew he needed to take a drive. He reasoned it was to give Dean some space alone to cope with this alone since he knew his brother wouldn’t want his help, he knew even if he had his soul that Dean wouldn’t want him to be around for this reaction.

As the Impala spun into the parking lot of the only decent bar in town, he sat still for several moments gazing at the exterior of the bar. The lot had several cars and bikes so the inside was pretty busy but his gaze went to the darkened alley that was cut off from view of the cameras in the lot and from any decent light.

His hunter senses were more attuned these days so Sam’s mind could easily see the set-up as he walked into the alley to see the usual trash bins, broken glass and other usual trash but his eyes were searching for what he hoped he wouldn’t find but felt his lips thin as he walked toward the rear of the alley where signs of the fight could still be seen.

Sam read what had happened easily and knew his brother had been jumped probably the second he got out of the bar door. He’d seen the bloody lump on the back of Dean’s head which told him that one of the men had hit him with something which also would explained how they’d stunned his fight first and ask questions later sibling to get him into the alley.

From there it was a matter of numbers, injuries, alcohol and…he bent to let his fingers pick up the black bracelet he knew belonged to his brother but hadn’t seen him wearing it since they began hunting again. Then he saw the scattered pictures and felt his jaw clench when it hit him.

The bastards hadn’t just jumped, beat up and assaulted his brother but they’d also robbed him and if Sam was reading the way the pictures had been tossed he suspected what else they’d threatened.

He knew that no matter the risk to himself that Dean would’ve fought back against this kind of attack unless the assholes were armed with more than the casual pocketknife. There was only one threat that Dean wouldn’t have fought against and that was against…

“Damn it,” Sam closed his eyes, pocketing the photos and the bracelet and had his hand on the door before he was even aware of it.

Seeing Dean in pain and hurt still bothered him on some level. Understanding by the placement of the bruises and the one deep bootprint on the back of his neck as if someone had stepped on it to keep his brother still and also probably used something to choke him with brought up a layer in Sam that he hadn’t felt in months.

However it was finally picking up the clues that the jerks in the bar must have seen the pictures of him and Dean that his brother still carried and probably threatened Sam that pushed a button that very few could use these days.

Ever since losing his lose it took a lot for Sam to even feel a spark of anything much less the urge that he was feeling now as he stepped into the crowed and loud bar to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light before spotting four guys playing darts that immediately made every sense he still had prick.

The bar was filled with people but it was the men playing darts and being overly loud and nasty that drew his attention and that was before he picked up what they were saying.

“The asshole wasn’t so tough once Chet was done with him,” a skinny guy with long stringy hair was laughing as he drained his beer while twirling something on his finger. “Though I think we all should’ve had a turn or seen what else he’d do to avoid us paying a visit to this piece of meat.”

The leader of the little pack, a tall man at around 6’2” with crew cut black hair and huge hands threw the dart to sneer as it hit the wall. “Well, we got the motel card along with his cash so I suppose we could always pay another visit to remind him why it wasn’t smart to stick his nose into our business. Bet he wished by the time I was done with his ass that he’d just let us play with sweet little Marcy or…argh!”

The bragging man screamed when his wrist was grabbed and twisted back hard enough that it broke with a neat little snap.

By the time his three friends could stop gawking as the now sobbing man who dropped to the floor with his hand clutched to his chest a hard kick to his balls made him gag. “Who…what…”

“Actually, I think it might be wiser for you to learn that touching my brother is not a good thing for you bastards,” Sam spoke coldly, stepping away from the man whose wrist he’d just broken to grab the skinny man who was twirling the other black bracelet. “This belongs to me.”

Both Winchesters had the bracelets but Sam hadn’t worn or had his since the night his brother was killed by Hellhounds and he’d slipped it into Dean’s pocket.

He’d wondered if his brother still had it or not but to see it twirling around the skinny man’s finger so casually and knowing that Dean would’ve fought like hell to keep both items safe something hard and hot clicked within Sam.

Being without a soul didn’t allow the younger man to understand right or wrong or to know what to so in a situation that might require tact or decorum. It did however also allow him to react blindly and coolly to a situation that might seem outmatched since he was also going against three men but Sam was a professional and the men were drunken bullies.

In less than ten minutes Sam pulled his final punch before it went through a large heavyset man’s throat before returning his attention to Chet, the leader, who was babbling and screaming for those still in the bar to help or call the cops.

“Who helped my brother when you and your buddies jumped him outside? Where was the help when you assholes dragged him into that alley to beat and kick him? Where was the help when one of them stood on his neck while probably another one held him down while you assaulted him?” Sam’s eyes were dark with an anger he could actually remember from before, slipping the bracelet into his pocket with the other one.

“Dean defended the waitress from you bastards and you decided to jump him. You’re so big and tough that it took four of you to take my brother out and then I bet he still fought you and would’ve kicked your asses until you threatened me,” Sam had pulled the man’s pockets inside out to find a wad of cash, their motel card and a photo of when Sam was seventeen…a photo that he didn’t even know Dean still had since it was of them and their Dad.

Chet stared up at the tall man with longer dark hair and cold eyes that calmly took apart his friends as if they were nothing and wasn’t even breathing hard as he returned his attention to him, realizing who this was and why he was there.

He was used to the tough guy types the bar got normally. The stranger tonight had pissed him off when he didn’t back down from Chet’s blustering and threatening. He’d enjoyed taking the dick down a notch in the alley after they’d beat him down enough and when Steve had offered to pay a visit to the shaggy haired young man they’d found pictures of.

It had pissed Chet off that they couldn’t get the tough guy to beg but he’d thought he’d left a message plain enough and had been planning to swing by the motel after leaving the bar to maybe have another go but now as he looked into the cool, hard hazel eyes of the man’s brother he realized this might be one time they’d made a serious mistake.

“He asked for it,” he spat in hopes of making this one lose his temper and maybe someone would take him down but it was clear that no one else in the bar seemed interested in what was happening. “He…ghh!”

Strong fingers gripped his throat as Sam leaned into his face. “I am so not the man you want to try to piss off,” he smiled a little but it was a smile that was completely without emotion except for the buried and nearly forgotten need to protect like he’d been protected so much. “Dean says I can’t judge between black and white right now. That I don’t know how far to go before it’s too far. This time though I really don’t give a damn if I go too far.”

Sam was a good judge of character with or without his soul and it had taken him only a few minutes to decide which of the four assholes had done the worst damage to Dean and while he’d taken each man out with the same lethal precision to leave them alive but regretting their choice of ever touching a Winchester he eyed the leader with something akin to disgust.

“I could kill you without leaving a mark on you. I could do what you did to me brother except I’m not that twisted so I’ll leave you with this warning…” he grabbed the already broken wrist to twist it around and up and heard the snap of something breaking in the shoulder while the man screamed and writhed. “If I see you again before we leave this town, if you and any of your pals show up at the motel with some stupid plan of nailing my brother again or jumping me because of what I just did…think twice.

“I will kill the next son of a bitch I see from this bar or the next one who thinks they can jump my brother and not pay a price,” Sam slid the money and photo away to stand up and see that nearly every eye was on him but even that didn’t bother him. “Take the same advice I just gave him,” he advised simply, laying some of his own money on the bar. “Damages and a round of drinks but I’d advise no one try to stand up for them or that the cops don’t come looking for me because it’d be a little easy for me to point out a few of the illegal things I’ve seen going on around here and jumping a FBI agent won’t look good for anyone.”

He walked out after that and didn’t worry about it as he drove back to the motel but did make a quick side trip through a fast food place to grab some later dinner and as an afterthought he also picked up something extra.

The motel room was mostly dark by the time he let himself back in. It seemed to be an odd unspoken rule between them as of late that whenever Sam went out by himself his brother never asked why or for what but yet a light or the TV was always left on until Sam’s return.

This night was no different even though Sam could tell by the rigidness of his brother’s shoulders as he slept half on his side and half on his stomach with a hand under his pillow and probably curled around either the knife or gun he kept under there that Dean wasn’t fully asleep.

Quietly setting the bag of food down on the table near his laptop, Sam laid his jacket over the chair before shutting the TV off but left the light on low so the room wouldn’t be in total darkness.

He noticed the open medical kit on his bed, the furthest one from the door, and guessed the reason Dean was laying with his back more toward the bed since normally his brother always slept facing Sam’s bed; another habit Sam realized they’d had since he’d been a child and would often seek his brother out at night if scared.

Sam could see his brother had dressed the wounds he could reach but there were at least three on his back that needed covered that Dean wouldn’t have been able to reach himself and the younger man felt another odd feeling settle at the realization that his brother still trusted him even after the vampire mess to let him dress the wounds he’d gained tonight.

“Y’know I was wrong about something,” he spoke quietly after washing his hands and sitting on the edge of the bed to easily see the wounds he needed to dress but chose to use the ointment that he knew would heal but not burn before covering each with gauze and tape.

Dean’s eyes didn’t open but his shoulders relaxed even before his brother spoke, his hand slowly easing out from under the pillow to simply lay on the bed while allowing Sam to dress and cover the few injuries that he hadn’t been able to earlier.

“There’s a difference in caring and having emotions for people or strangers and caring or having the emotions for…you,” Sam removed both black bracelets from his pocket to slip them both back over his brother’s wrist, feeling the way Dean’s arm tensed but relaxed when he realized what it was without even looking. “I may not have the emotions or feelings that I did before this happened or that I will if we get my soul back but…I realized tonight that I still feel something when it’s you.”

Sam placed the last piece of tape on, pulled a blanket up to lightly place it over his brother and went to move back to his bed but placed a hand carefully over Dean’s wrist with the bracelets to squeeze it as if trying to reassure his brother of something.

“I didn’t kill the bastards even though I could’ve and I know it might not have been want you wanted me to do or what you thought I’d do but you’re my brother and soulless or not I figured out tonight that I still care for you and will have your back,” he laid the photos and money on the table between the beds before sitting down to take his shoes off.

Normally Sam didn’t sleep. He’d work out or research something but tonight he felt like it was right that he at least made the attempt to sleep if for no other reason than to make Dean feel more at ease.

He’d only just settled down but was still alert enough to know if anyone touched the door to their room when he heard the creak of the bed next to his and listened to see if Dean was in pain or just getting comfortable and Sam had the odd thought that he should’ve laid out the pain meds.

“Thanks, Sam,”

Dean’s voice was steady but deep, a sign of emotion that he wasn’t yet comfortable with showing to this side of his brother but it was when Sam noticed his brother had shifted so he was facing him again with an arm half outstretched that he smiled a little more like his old self and even though Sam had his doubts about getting his soul back he was happy that he could at least still have some feelings for his brother and would keep the promise he made the bar if he had to.

Having no soul might make him cold and uncaring but in some way Sam could only assume that not even soulless could take everything away from caring for the man who’d raised him…now if he could just make up for the whole vampire thing he thought he could face the return of his soul and the guilt that would bring.

**The End**


End file.
